Tickle Monster
by DoctheWriter
Summary: Pure unadulterated FLUFF!


Title: Tickle Monster

Author: Doc

Disclaimer: I'm only using them for my weird amusement. =) Joss and Co. own them, sadly!

Summary: fluffy fun!

Distribution: Someone actually wants this? WOW! Go, take it! Just gimme a link =)

AN: Just a fluffy ficlet idea I had, and since I'm currently working on a new fic, hopefully this will tide you guys over until I can finish that and get it out

Feedback: YES PLEASE! It makes me write more! lilmisslovly@swbell.net

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Buffy laid on the couch reading her Cosmo magazine and listening to one of her favorite CDs. It was a hot summer day and she had decided to stay in, away from the heat. She was expecting her husband home any minute, and she put her magazine down to think about what they should do for dinner.

No cooking, its way too hot. Maybe we should go out. Or better yet, order in!

She put threw down her magazine on the couch and called 'Peaking Duck', the local Chinese food place and ordered their usual. After that was done, she ran upstairs and took a quick, cool shower and changed into a cotton T-shirt and her sophie shorts.

No use in looking cute when there's nowhere to go.

She picked up her magazine again and continued to read until her husband got home. He opened the door to the sounds of 'Moulin Rouge' playing on the stereo and his wife was dancing around the living room. He set down his briefcase and watched her hips gyrate to the music as she danced around, singing. She looked up to see him watching her in the doorway and turned a bright shade of red.

"You're suppose to say something when you come in and see me acting like an idiot."

"Why, when it's so sexy."

"Oh you," she ran and jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, giving him a sound kiss on the lips, "Missed you."

"Missed you more. How was your day?"

She hopped down and scoffed, "Hot, and boring. I spent all day doing house work, talked with Willow, and then I've been sitting on the couch reading and listening to music. I ordered take-out. Chinese."

"Mmmm. Sounds yummy. Then maybe later we can turn your song back on and you can do that little dance for me again."

"You wish."

The door bell rang and Buffy ran to her purse to get some money, "Just a minute."

She open the door and paid the man and took their order. They enjoyed dinner while watching Prime Time TV, and then it was getting late. Buffy yawned and stretched out on the couch, her head in Angel's lap.

"So, are you still keeping Gracie tomorrow?"

"Yea. Willow called me today and said that the Watcher's Council called and asked if she would come to Englang this summer and begin her training, so that means I have to watch Gracie while she goes to meet with Emily," Buffy had been relieved of her duty after she defeated The First, and after three long years without her Angel, he had finally gained his Shanshu and rushed to Sunnydale. It was ironic that while Angel had been rushing to Sunnydale, Buffy had been rushing to LA, and they ended up getting back together over the phone. Travers had been replaced by a lovely woman, and after Kennedy was killed in the fight, Willow had reunited with Oz and five short years later, Willow and Buffy were both married and Willow had a beautiful little girl.

"That's good news. So are her and Oz going to live there for the summer?"

"Yea. They figured that would be the easiest thing to do."

Angel started scratching his wife's back and her eyes began to get heavy. He moved toward her side and she jumped and screamed.

"Angel!"

"What!"

"You know I'm ticklish."

"Oh, right. I'm sorry. Just sit down, I won't do it again."

She looked hesitant but sat back down next to her husband anyway. She laid back over and he began his previous ministrations. He smiled evilly to himself and grabbed her side. She sat up with a squeal and darted off the couch.

"So you want to go to war, huh?"

His eyes gleamed with mischief and she stood poised.

"You know you're gonna loose."

"Whatever. I know all your weaknesses."

He jumped off the couch and lunged at her, and caught her by the arm. He reached up and grabbed her sides again, moving up to under her arms. She burst into fits of laughter and screamed.

"ANGEL! STOP!"

She slapped him, hard, and he dropped her arm.

"OW!"

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," she hugged him and kissed the hand print she had left. He took advantage of her defenses being down and held her tight while sitting her back down on the couch and tickling her feet. She was writhing in agony, begging him to stop.

"Angel, PLEASE!"

"What? You can't handle it, little miss former-Slayer?"

She kicked him off and pinned him to the couch. She knew his one weak spot and went for it. She grabbed his knee and squeezed and he laughed wildly.

"Buffy! Buffy, STOP!"

"NEVER! I am the tickle-Queen!"

He finally pushed her off and ran into the kitchen, where he got the sprayer on the sink. He aimed it at the doorway, and when she came through she stopped dead in her tracks.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, wouldn't I?"

She made a move and he sprayed in her general direction, but she dropped and rolled, the breakfast bar in the way. She popped up and he aimed for her head, but she ducked as the water came her way. They played 'Spray the Buffy' for a little while until Angel got bored, and was soaked, while Buffy was still bone dry. He ran upstairs and hid in the closet. He heard her footsteps as she sang, "Annnnnnngel, where arrrrrrrrre you?"

His eyes went wide and he held his nose, but he sneezed anyway. She pulled open the closet door, "Ah ha!" He grabbed her sides and tickled her again, and ran back downstairs to the living room. She followed and jumped on his back, piggy back style, as he made his way down the stairs. The tickling began again as Angel threw Buffy on the couch and attacked her feet, knees, and sides.

This went on for a few more minutes until both of them were lying on the floor, panting. The song on the CD changed from 'Hero' to 'Moulin Rouge' and Angel looked at his wife suggestively.

"Feel like, dancing?"

"After all that agony? Yea right! You should have thought about that before you went all 'tickle monster' on me. You know how peeved it makes me."

He whined and pouted. She looked at him and gave in.

"Fine, but only if you wear the leather pants and we can use the pink, fuzzy hand cuffs."

"Deal."

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The End

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